Rock Hard, Love Harder: A Not-So-Silent Night
by chellethebelle
Summary: A Christmas one-shot based off the story, Rock Hard, Love Harder. In the snowy mountains of Colorado, Damon and Elena gather with the guys of The Mystic Republic and their wives and kids to celebrate Christmas like they have every year - together. But when an unexpected guest arrives, Elena must face her past in a way she never expected, making it a Christmas no one will forget.


**AN: This should be read after reading Rock Hard, Love Harder as it does contain some spoilers pertaining to the original story.**

**Merry Christmas! Because of the immense love I've received on my story, Rock Hard, Love Harder, I wanted to give a big, fat thank you and gift you with this Christmas one-shot.**

**A huge thanks has to go to Layla Reyne for being a rocking beta and title-er. Also you can all thank her for this O/S because she voted to RHLH. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Damon

A warm arm snakes around my waist as a body presses up against my back and soft lips kiss my skin. I have woken up like this every day for the past six years.

I'm about to fall back asleep when I hear the doorknob jiggling and then the soft swish of the door opening. My eyes stay closed while the sound of two little feet whisper across the carpet.

"Daddy?" a quiet voice asks. "Are you awake?"

I bury my face deeper into my pillow and growl playfully, "No."

That same voice lets out a sweet giggle and my eyes slide open. I see our little girl standing at my bedside. Her long midnight hair is wild with bed head and her dark brown eyes are wide with excitement.

"Daddy, you hafta get up," she says, her voice growing louder with excitement. "Santa came!"

Elena's arm tightens around my middle and I feel her smile against my shoulder.

"Okay, but you have to do one thing first," I reply, my own voice still rough with sleep.

Aria nods enthusiastically, anxiously awaiting her task.

"I need a snuggle," I tell her, and she smiles so wide that a little dimple in her cheek pops out.

She throws herself at me, scrambling up onto the bed and into my open arms. She giggles wildly as I roll with her, placing her right between Elena and me. I scoot in close enough to wrap my arms around both of my girls, dropping a kiss to Aria's messy hair.

"Merry Christmas, angel," Elena whispers to our daughter.

Aria rolls to face her mother fully and replies in her melodic voice, "Merry Christmas, Mommy."

We all lay there for a while, talking softly to each other, until Aria gets impatient and starts demanding that "we start Christmas."

I pull her out of bed with me before leaning in and dragging Elena along with us.

"Merry Christmas, baby," I whisper to her before pressing my lips to hers.

She sighs happily as she kisses me back and then pulls away with a sleepy smile.

"Merry Christmas, Damon. I love you."

She turns and takes Aria's hand to help her get ready for the crazy day we have planned while I just stand and revel in how much I love my wife.

* * *

Elena

I stop as three laughing kids go running past me, with Aria pulling up the rear, running as fast as her little legs can take her to keep up with her cousins. I clutch the baby boy in my arms closer to my chest as I enter the kitchen to heat up a bottle for my sweet nephew, Nash.

This year for Christmas, the band decided to rent out cabins in Colorado and celebrate all together in the snow. So far we've enjoyed a week of relaxation, skiing and lots of laughter. Each family has its own rental along the quiet, secluded road, but everyone fills mine and Damon's today since – at Damon's demand - it's the largest of them all.

"Elena, I can do that," Caroline says, as she enters the kitchen behind me. The smell of the cooking turkey fills the space and makes my mouth water.

"Nonsense," I reply, holding Nash tighter as I set the microwave for a few seconds. "Aria claims she's too big to be held like this anymore and Jeremy and Bonnie's youngest is walking now. He doesn't want anyone keeping him from his freedom, so I have to get my baby fix somewhere."

Caroline laughs and lovingly strokes her baby boy's cheek. "He's growing up so fast, I just want to make him stop."

It's my turn to laugh. "Just have another baby."

Caroline rolls her eyes, but smiles through it. "Stefan is all over that idea. Nash is only four months old and Stefan is already asking when we can give him a little sister or brother so that they can grow up close like he and Damon did."

At the mention of my husband's name, I look across the island and into the large open living room, finding him amidst all the men with beers in hand. They are all laughing at Jeremy, who's captured Aria and is tickling her while she flails and squeals.

"When is Matt supposed to get here?" I ask, as I take the bottle from the microwave and test it on my wrist before giving it to Nash, who dives in whole-heartedly. Obviously, he inherited the Salvatore appetite.

"He should be here any minute," Caroline replies, glancing at her watch. "I'm excited to meet this mystery girlfriend."

Nodding my agreement, we walk back into the living room and I sit near Bonnie and Jenna, who both turn and coo over baby Nash.

I glance around at my extended family and count my lucky stars that I have them. When my parents died, Jeremy and Jenna were my only family. Now, I have my brother, my friend-turned-sister-in-law, Bonnie, Aunt Jenna, my Uncle Alaric, my husband, my brother-in-law, Stefan, and my best friend and brother-in-law's wife, Caroline. Sometimes, it's overwhelming how much my family has grown. Not to mention all of the kids running around. But I wouldn't trade it for the world.

I'm passing Nash over to Jenna when the front door opens. Looking up, I see Matt walk in, hand-in-hand, with a blonde woman. He smiles at everyone as they shout their "hello's," but I can't take my eyes off of the woman with him. There is something about her that is so familiar.

"Hey everyone," Matt greets with a wide smile as he pulls his girlfriend closer. "This is my girlfriend, Rebekah."

The moment he says her name, it all clicks and my body freezes.

_Oh my God._

* * *

I busy myself in the kitchen to keep from letting on that I know Rebekah. It's been almost seven years since that terrible night I spent in a Phoenix hotel room– sick, delirious and afraid for my life. I'd long buried those memories after they'd come back when we were in Hawaii.

To be honest, I was more surprised than anything to see her, but now that the shock has worn off, I feel nothing. No anger, no hurt, no resentment, only sadness. Sadness for the girl who was so clearly out of control, even of her own self. It's sad to remember the moment Rebekah realized what she'd done. The look that was on her face then is permanently etched into my mind.

"I love him, you know," comes a soft voice from behind me.

I turn to find Rebekah standing awkwardly across the kitchen, leaning against the large island.

I can't help but smile. Of course she loves Matt. "It's very hard not to love him."

"It's true," she agrees, a look of sadness shadowing her face. "I know because I tried not to. For a very long time."

"Why would you do that?" I ask, though I can guess the answer.

"I knew who he was. I knew what I'd done. There's not a day that goes by that I don't remember." She looks up and meets my eyes. Hers are burning with sincerity. " I'd just started to feel like I'd gotten my life back on track when I met him. For the first time in my life, someone looked at me like I was normal, like I wasn't crazy. And, _God_, I liked that. Even when I told him about my illness, he didn't blink. He just held me and made me feel beautiful."

I smile again and take a step closer to her. "I'm happy that Matt can be that for you."

"You shouldn't be," she snaps in disgust, taking a step away from me.

I stop, her words confusing me. "Shouldn't I?"

"Almost seven years ago, my brothers forced me into an institution against my will. I was convinced I didn't have a problem. When the doctors threw out words like 'bi-polar,' or 'manic depressive,' or even 'psychotherapy,' I got scared and angry and I ran. I became obsessed with the notion that if I made someone normal fall in love with me then _I_ would be normal and no one would think otherwise. The Mystic Republic were on the radio all the time and one crazy idea led to another. If I could make Jeremy Gilbert, of all people, love me, then wouldn't that mean I was normal. The world would have no choice but to see me with him. I would show my brothers, my doctors, everyone that I was okay, that I didn't have a problem."

"Rebekah, you don't have to explain anything to me," I tell her softly, taking another cautious step in her direction.

"No, I do!" she exclaims, her eyes welling up with tears as she shakes her head. "When Elijah walked into that hotel room, the realization of what I'd done, who I'd become, hit me like a freight train. It physically hurt. I'd become a monster - a true manifestation of my illness."

A sob rips out of her throat as tears fall down her cheeks. My heart breaks for her. For how she was ruled by her illness.

"Rebekah?"

The masculine voice grabs both of our attention and we turn to find Matt standing at the threshold of the kitchen.

_Oh no._

"Matt-" Rebekah whispers.

"What did you do?" he asks, looking at her like he'd look at a criminal.

"Matt," she says again, her voice breaking.

"What the hell did you do?!" he bellows and both of us flinch.

Before anything else can be said, he turns on his heel and storms out. When Rebekah tries to go after him, I pull her back gently by her arm.

"Let me," I say. "There's a spare bedroom down the hall to the right, if you need a moment to collect yourself."

She sniffles and then sobs again. "You shouldn't be nice to me."

"Rebekah," I reply, grasping both of her hands in mine. "Everyone deserves forgiveness. You don't need to carry this weight around anymore."

"Thank you," she says shakily, before I push her in the direction of the hallway. I follow her out of the kitchen, turning to go after Matt when Damon steps into my path with concerned eyes.

"Everything okay?" he asks in a low voice, his eyes scanning my face.

"It will be," I answer.

He lets me step around him with a squeeze to my hands as I set off to the front door. The cold air blasts me in the face while I pull my sweater tighter around my body. I find Matt just beyond the porch, standing in the middle of the snow, staring off into the trees.

"Matty?"

He jolts and turns to me, trying to mask his pain for me. "Go back inside, Elena."

I stand my ground. "I'm not leaving you out here alone."

Silence is his only response for a long while, but I wait him out.

"You almost died," he whispers brokenly.

"Matt," I reply, closing the distance between us and taking one of his hands between both of mine.

"You almost died and the woman that I'm in love with is the reason why." His voice is hoarse with emotion as he squeezes my hand.

"Matt, listen to me," I say sternly, tugging on his hand so he'll meet my eyes. "Listen to me, okay?"

"I didn't die," I declare passionately. "I didn't. I'm here and healthy and because of that day, I'm so much stronger. Matt, she has a mental illness. It's as much out of her control as my being sick was out of mine."

"But she lied to me," he shoots back.

"She loves you," I reply instantly. "Don't you think she had a good reason to not tell you? After a life full of everyone treating her like she belonged in a straight jacket, don't you think she'd want to keep the one person who loved her, despite her illness?"

"I do love her," he says, sounding so dejected and confused that my heart aches.

"Then go talk to her," I urge him.

"How can you be so kind to her?" he asks.

I sigh. This is why I never wanted to tell the guys about what happened. They would've never understood why I didn't want to press charges. "Matt, it was a long time ago. I was sick before she took me. I was foolishly putting off going to a doctor and what happened to me would've happened whether or not she took me. She was a victim of her illness, but she took the steps to get better, to move on from that lowest point in her life and to beat her illness before it beat her."

Matt looks away instead of replying.

"Go talk to her," I repeat. "Listen to what she has to say with an open mind and then decide where you want to go from there, okay?"

He nods slightly. "Okay."

I pull him inside by the hand and push him toward the room Rebekah went into. I see his shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath before he pushes the door open and disappears inside.

Once the door closes, I join my family in the living room, plopping down on the couch next to Damon and snuggling into his side when his arm goes around me.

"Everything good?" he asks softly in my ear. The concern he feels is evident in his voice, reminding me just how much I love him.

So I tell him.

His response is to smile and pull me closer, placing a kiss on my forehead as he does it. We sit together and watch the kids play a while until the timer for the turkey goes off and Damon pushes himself up to go tend to it. I go to follow him and as I do, Matt and Rebekah emerge from the bedroom. I smile when I look down and see them holding hands. Then I notice Rebekah's hair is a bit messier than it was and Matt's cheeks are flushed pink.

I shake my head and laugh softly, my heart swelling at the happy look on Matt's face. I know I did the right thing when I let that resentment go all those years ago and now I'm seeing the results of that decision right before my eyes.

Before I move toward the kitchen, Rebekah mouths "thank you," to me. I smile and nod before getting ready to serve my family the best Christmas dinner they've ever had.

* * *

I sigh happily as I lay my head on Damon's shoulder and watch the fire burn in the fireplace. Dinner went off without a hitch and there was a lot of laughter and love. I spent most of the meal corralling the kids and watching Matt and Rebekah exchange smiles and touches. Our annual white elephant exchange was a hoot, as usual, and my stomach still hurts from laughing so hard.

"I still can't believe Jeremy gave away an autographed picture of himself," I say softly, laughing under my breath at Alaric's face when he opened the gift.

"Classic Jeremy," Damon replies, shaking his head.

When our sleeping Aria starts before falling back to sleep, Damon cuddles her blanket-swathed body closer to his chest.

"I'm gonna put this little one to bed," he says, carefully standing with her in his arms. "I'll be right back."

I watch him walk away, never getting enough of the sight of my man and our daughter together. Impossibly, he's even hotter when he's interacting with her.

My heart starts pounding a bit faster when Damon returns from upstairs. I'm excited to give him his gifts, but I can't help but be nervous as to whether he'll like them or not.

He sits back on the couch and tries to pull me into his arms, but I push away and stand in front of him.

"Elena, what are you-"

His question cuts off when I pull off my cardigan and start unbuttoning my shirt.

"I'm giving you your Christmas present," I say in answer to his unfinished question.

His eyes zero in on the red lacy and rhinestone bra I reveal. The heat of his stare gives me the confidence I need to keep going with this. In all of the years we've been together, I have never, ever stripped for him. Not like this.

Damon relaxes back into the couch as the shirt falls from my arms. My skin is warm from the fire and I feel blood heating my cheeks. With slightly shaking hands, I unbutton and unzip my pants, wiggling them down my legs until they drop on the floor and I kick them away. I force myself to not cover up as I let Damon have his fill. His gaze is like a physical touch that has my chest heaving with heavy breaths and a rush of moisture flooding my core.

When his eyes meet mine again, I walk to him slowly, keeping eye contact with him every step. I stop right in between his legs and lean over him, giving him a view of my cleavage as my hands fist in his shirt and tug up. He lifts his arms, letting me pull the fabric over his head and toss it aside, his eyes coming right back to my breasts. My hands run over the smooth skin I've uncovered, tracing his familiar tattoos before I rake my nails down his chest, drawing a shudder from his body and a hiss from his lips.

With a smile, I kneel between his open legs and slowly unbutton his jeans, tugging them down enough to pull his cock free. He's hard and hot in my hand as I circle his shaft, stroking slowly. I meet his eyes and I'm nearly incinerated by the heat staring back at me there. My hands move slowly, coaxing him to harden further under my touch. I love having him in this position, being the one in power.

I lower my mouth over him and suck, reveling in the sharp exhalation of his breath. I set to work, using my extensive knowledge of exactly what he likes and exactly where he likes it to drive him crazy. His hands fist in my hair as I take him to the edge and then back off, letting him recover. He groans in distress at his denied relief, but it quickly turns into a moan when I start the torture all over again.

I love the taste of him and the feel of him in my mouth. I feel so vulnerable when I go down on him, but the trust I have in him to never hurt me only increases the intimacy of the moment. I flutter my tongue along the underside of him, loving the way his eyes roll back in his head as it drops against the back of the couch. I take him to the edge one last time before releasing him with a pop.

I kiss my way from his pelvis over his belly, up his chest, and at the base of his neck as I rise up off of my knees. His hands stroke the outsides of my thighs, moving upward slowly until they reach my panties. With a quick jerk, they're pooled around my ankles and I step out of them before I put a knee into the couch cushion on either side of his hips.

He takes himself in hand and rubs the head of his cock between my legs.

"I love how wet you get just from having me in your mouth," he growls, positioning himself so I can slam my hips down, impaling myself on him.

I throw my head back at the sheer perfection of him inside me. He fills every part of me, like he was made just for me. As I start to move, his hands smooth up my back and release the hook from my bra, pulling it down my arms and throwing it somewhere across the room. The moment it's gone, his mouth is on me, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. My hips keep rolling and slamming as our eyes lock. My arms curve around his shoulders, digging my nails in to hold on. My release is already building inside of me, promising to be just as amazing as every orgasm Damon's ever given me.

The only sounds in the room are our ragged moans and labored breathing, our bodies slapping together and the crackle of the fire roaring in the fireplace. I can't take my eyes from his; the connection between us intensifies every time he's inside me.

I lean forward, a sure sign of my impending explosion, and rest my forehead against his, breathing heavily against his lips. I tilt my hips, rubbing my clit against his abs, sending myself head first over the edge of oblivion. I cry out his name as my nails dig into his skin.

As it washes through me, Damon wraps me in his arms, turning us so I fall into the couch on my back and he pounds between my legs. He grunts on every slam, jolting me against the couch cushions. He thrusts in once, twice, three more times until he growls low in his throat, throwing his head back while his mouth opens in ecstasy.

After it moves through him, he collapses on me, burying his face in my neck. We lay like that for several minutes until he pulls back and pushes my hair off of my forehead. With a soft smile, he pulls out of me and arranges us in a sitting position, with me cuddled into his side. He pulls the blanket off of the back of the couch and wraps it around us.

"You want your present?" he asks.

I look up at him with what I'm sure is childlike excitement and whisper, "Yeah."

He grins at me before detangling himself and sauntering over to the tree, stark naked and without a care in the world. As he bends down to grab one of the last two gifts, I call out, "Will you bring over that last present, too?"

He does as asked and hands both boxes to me before climbing under the blanket and snuggling up next to me again. With greedy hands, I rip the paper from his gift and pull open the white gift box, finding a single perfect, shiny seashell nestled in the tissue paper.

"It's from the beach we stayed at in Hawaii when we first got together," he explains in a low murmur. My eyes sting with the sweet meaning behind his gift. It's more precious than any diamonds or jewelry he could've given me.

"I love it," I whisper, my throat choking with emotion.

I carefully place it back in the box to keep it safe until I can frame it to display when we get home.

"So who is the last present for?" Damon asks curiously.

"You," I reply, suddenly nervous again.

I watch as he carefully unwraps the present in his methodical way and opens the small box. His brows furrow in confusion as he looks at his gift. I see the exact moment that it clicks for him and he turns to me with wide eyes. He says nothing as his eyes well up with tears.

"Please tell me this isn't a dream," he whispers thickly.

"Not a dream. It's real. I'm pregnant," I reply, my own tears falling down my cheeks.

Damon pulls me into his arms, wrapping them tightly around me like he'll never let me go.

"I'm so incredibly happy right now," he whispers fiercely into my ear.

I pull back and look him in the eyes, cupping his jaw in my hands.

"Merry Christmas, Damon."

* * *

**Merry Christmas, to you all. I've never known a community that is as sweet as this one. **

**Reviews are love. **


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